Cousins
by Mrs. Took
Summary: Pippin expresses his feelings for Merry.IncestSlash
1. Chapter 1

**Pippin**

It's hard, not knowing what to say, or when to say it,  
and wishing some else would just go ahead and say it  
for you. It's all quite confusing, really, being that  
confused in one moment, but it happens, and more often  
than not these days. Perhaps he'll forgive me --  
whether he'll forgive me for the kiss, or forgive me  
for not saying what I wanted to say at the right  
moment, either way. I hope he can forgive me.

It isn't like we haven't kissed before. Cousins, yeah?  
Family. So it's only natural for us to hug, exchange  
chaste pecks on the cheek, never was a big deal. Not  
Îtil today, anyway. Okay, so maybe it wasn't so  
chaste, nor was it a peck on the cheek. I couldn't  
help it; he just looked so good, and felt it, too. We  
had been running, a Îcatch me if you can' game, one  
that we've played ever since we were little. Well,  
short story cut shorter than usual, I caught him. We  
laughed, Îcause I've been running for ages, and it was  
only then that I caught him. I can't help it that he's  
faster than I am -- he's taller, older and stronger.  
Kind of why I look up to him. Sometimes I wonder if he  
deliberately slows down so that I can catch him. I  
don't mind that he humours me -- it's his job, he's the  
older one.

Well, I caught him, whether it was intentional on his  
part or not. We laughed, and he told me to start  
running, that he'd start counting to ten. I nodded,  
and watched as he shut his eyes, whispering the  
numbers. I did start to run, admittedly, but then I  
just couldn't. I stood, watching him count. My heart  
was thudding so loudly that I was convinced he would  
open his eyes to see what was making the deep drumming  
noise. I stood, and watched as he passed ten, and he  
waited, waited for me to get further enough to keep  
the game interesting. It was then that I realised how  
much I loved him. He wasn't just my older cousin -- he  
was my best friend. And more.

Then, it was at that cursed moment I did something  
stupid. Doing stupid things is admittedly not uncommon  
for me, only this time I knew what I was doing, and I  
was fully ware how stupid it was, as opposed to other  
times when I wasn't. Slipping my hands under his  
jacket, palms against his yellow golden vest, I leaned  
forward and pressed my lips against his still ones. He  
gasped, but I didn't stop there. I let my body come  
closer, let my tongue dip into his mouth.

I'd never kissed before, but I knew how it was  
supposed to go. Hard not to when you have three older  
sisters. I remember fervently denying that I had ever  
watched one of them in the hayloft with a Bracegridle.  
Okay, so I did, but I got a pretty good education,  
more than I could have learnt anywhere else, really.

At first, he seemed to relax into it a bit, allowing  
me to exploring his mouth with my own, allowing me to  
rake my fingers against his fabric covered chest,  
allowing me to press my body against his in a desire  
that was so alien to me until that moment. But then he  
suddenly seemed to get scared, and while I was longing  
for him to show some sign that he felt the same way,  
he was obviously shocked at my forwardness · and  
disgusted.

I was shoved in the chest, and before I could  
comprehend what had happened, I was on my back on the  
forest floor, and my left heel hurt from where it was  
snagged on a submerged root, hence my fall. Suddenly,  
the warmth from his contact was gone, and I almost  
felt cold in more ways than one. Shocked, I looked up  
at him, and he almost seemed to glare back with  
bewilderment and revulsion.

There.

I should have said something.

But I didn't. Foolishly, I didn't.

He ran. I should have run after him, at the very  
least, I should have pursued him. But I was frozen in  
disappointment, my heart thudding even more loudly. My  
throat clenched up and I couldn't breathe. Rolling on  
to my stomach, I tried to climb to my feet, but I  
could. So this is what heartbreak feels like? Someone  
should have told me that the first cut is the deepest.  
I felt broken, shattered from the inside out. Numbly,  
I lay there, unawares of the warm tears flowing down  
my face as I cried silently. It was only when I stood  
did I utter a sob, leaning heavily against a tree,  
trying to hold back my tears, but I couldn't.

So crying, and feeling suddenly so very young and  
lost, I wandered back towards civilisation, blinded by  
tears. Every time I tried to draw breath, it was  
returned with a sob. If breathing meant crying, if  
breathing meant this much pain, why should I? Maybe I  
should just lie down, and stop crying, stop breathing.

I was shocked at this thought. It was that one that  
woke me up. I stopped walking a moment to centre  
myself, wipe away the tears, even if I couldn't stop  
myself from weeping. I had to be able to see where I  
was going, at least. But it turned out I didn't need  
to. Someone called my name, and I turned to see a  
familiar face. Soulful blue eyes, curling dark hair, a  
constantly worried expression -- anyone who knew Frodo  
Baggins would see him a mile off.

He said my name again, walking towards me, obviously  
worried about my state. I couldn't stop shaking. Could  
I tell him? We'd been friends for years. I could tell  
him anything. Before I could say anything he embraced,  
and it reminded me so much of the way he would comfort  
me that I broke down into fresh, new sobs. We sat at  
the base of a large tree, and Frodo tried to coax the  
reason for my tears out of me. But I couldn't, saying  
his name would hurt too much.

So I cried, and the daydreamer of a hobbit held me  
tightly, telling me it would be all right when he  
didn't even know why I was so heart broken. It seemed  
like ages before he asked again. "What is the matter?"  
he asked gently. "What happened?" I folded my arms,  
staring down at the forest floor, ignoring the  
friendly arm he had around me. And I answered him.

"Merry."


	2. Chapter 2

**Merry**

I ran like I had done in our game. I didn't look back.  
I didn't want to see him -- his eyes were just so sad,  
when they shouldn't be. A Took should never be sad,  
there should be a law somewhere. But then, a  
Brandybuck should never be the cause of a Took's  
sadness. If I did turn back, what could I say? I could  
ask why he kissed me, I could apologise for shoving  
him so · But how could I get myself to line up a  
sentence coherently? My breathing became ragged as I  
fled from where he probably still lay on the forest  
floor. Memories flooded through my mind of what had  
happened just moments ago.

I almost tripped over a tree root when I felt his  
fingers curling around my elbow. It had taken a while,  
but finally he had caught me. We fell about laughing,  
the bright sunlight and cheery surroundings making us  
all the more in high spirits. "Right, you run now,  
Pip," I intructed. He nodded and started away. Closing  
my eyes, I started to count. "One, two, three, four·"  
I tried to crush my habit of peeking to see where my  
opponent had run off to. It was always the same -- I  
couldn't help peek. I suppressed the urge this time,  
which I reckoned deserved a bout of clapping. "Five,  
six, seven·" The twittering of a bird sound out high  
in the trees, and I couldn't help but feel like I was  
being watched. "Eight, nine, ten·" I didn't open my  
eyes right away -- let the younger one run, keep the  
game in motion. We both knew I was faster. It was the  
same reason why I slowed down, to finally let him  
catch me.

I had paused long enough. It was time to start  
chasing. But suddenly, warm hands on my chest, soft,  
tepid lips pressed against mine. I gasped, though I  
kept my eyes shut, as if scared of what I might see. I  
froze, panicking, as I felt him press himself against  
me. Why did I have that sudden desire to pull him  
closer? This was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He was my  
cousin! And a Îhe!' And · further more, Pippin?

This couldn't be happening. His tongue darted between  
my lips, and I relaxed slightly, letting him explore  
my mouth. He was quite good, for a hobbit that'd never  
kissed before. I didn't have much to compare him to,  
of course -- there have been a couple of girls in the  
past, nothing special, just an experiment. Lord, I  
could hardly recall their names. And I didn't want to.  
I wanted to let him kiss me, and never stop. I wanted  
to answer with my own tongue, lie next to him in the  
browning leaves and the soft grass and earthy  
surroundings.

It was obvious that he wanted it. But could I give it  
to him? Hat hope did we have? None. I had to end it.

I shoved him, harder than I meant to. The sudden  
abandonment of warmth against me was a shock, and I  
blinked as he fell on to the soft ground. I was  
appalled at myself, and I hesitated, wanting to help  
him up. I hadn't meant to push him so hard. But it was  
those sorrowful sea-storm eyes that made me panic even  
further. I seemed to want me to say something, or he  
wanted to say something, but I couldn't bear any words  
at this point.

So I ran. I shouldn't have, but I did. The logical  
part of my mind was telling me it was for the best. We  
were cousins, yeah? Family. It would never work. I was  
meant to marry a woman, carry on the Brandybuck line --  
not have a relationship with my very male cousin. But  
all I could think of, truly think of, was the warmth  
of his never-been-kissed lips, the softness of his  
tentative touch. I wanted to guide his hands, take  
control of our kiss, have him feel as secure as  
anything, to leave room for carelessness and spirited  
contentment.

I stopped my running, hands on my knees as I bent  
over, taking a breather. Every inhale was a ragged  
pant, and I realised I was crying. I never usually.  
Wiping away warm, salty tears, I straightened,  
glancing back. I needed to go back to him. I needed to  
explain. I need to kiss him again·

For the first time, I realised one thing: I loved him.

It's hard, not knowing what to say, or when to say it,  
and wishing some else would just go ahead and say it  
for you. It's all quite confusing, really, being that  
confused in one moment, but it happens, and more often  
than not these days. Perhaps he'll forgive me --  
whether he'll forgive me for not returning the kiss,  
or forgive me for not saying what I wanted to say at  
the right moment, either way · I hope he can forgive  
me.

And I wandered, as I turned and started to head back  
to where I left him, I wandered: did he love me? Was  
that spontaneous kiss under the afternoon sun just  
that -- spontaneous? Was he truly to young to know the  
meaning of love? I knew he wasn't experienced, he  
wasn't mature · even more the reason to wander why he  
kissed me, if he didn't truly mean it. He was infamous  
for doing stupid things -- was this one of them, just  
another incident to add to his growing collection? But  
in my heart, I didn't feel like what he had done was  
stupid. Pip could be silly, but he was the most honest  
hobbit I've ever known. He wouldn't have kissed me if  
he didn't mean it, that I truly was sure of.

I smiled, despite the fact that my eyes were still wet  
with unshed tears, despite the knowledge of the fact  
that I could have hurt him deeply with my previous  
actions. He loved me, now I was sure. And I loved him.  
What could possibly be more perfect, when you get  
right down to it? He needed me, I've known that all my  
life. Since he was a very young child, he looked up to  
me, despite my being not that much older than him.  
Yes, he needed me, that was obvious. But there comes I  
time when I realise that I needed him just as much,  
more so that others could ever know. I needed his  
smile, his cheerfulness, his willingness to play and  
be with me, his occasional outright words and bursts  
of indignance. Simple curiosity and honest questions.

Walking through the forest, I realised that I loved  
him completely. It was a very pleasant realisation. My  
smile grew, and I just had to say his name, had to  
taste it, had to seal my thoughts of love for the  
Took.

"Pippin."


End file.
